Havin' a yarn

HAVIN' A YARN

G,Day, mate, 'owyagoin, I hope ya' doin' alright, all right?

Yeah! Mate, not too bad, a bit rough around the edges,

Not bad in patches, but still above the ground, most days.

Me too, me' missus and me are still together, still hitched.

And that is something of be considered in the Outback

When things are a changin' an' money's getting' tight.

Ya' not wrong, mate, tighter than a Yella' Belly fish's bum,

Jobs are hard to find now, harder ifn' ya' don't look, they reckon,

Used ta' be a good days work would bring a good day's pay.

Yeah! And when you could trust a man's word, his hand shake.

When you could lend a bloke, down and out,a quid, or maybe two

Knowin' that you would get it back in spades, and then some.

Ya' remember when me and you waz drovin' that mob of bleaters?

We ate a good and hearty meal, and slept dry most nights.

I do remember, mate, I remember it well, well, as well as I can, that is.

Yeah! You remember, sheep rear ends all day long, and dust.

Yeah! I remember the dust, Like powder, up ya' nose and stuff.

Yeah, I got bit real bad by lousy fox fleas, them bloody, blood eaters.

The good old days, when the boss broke his leg, Didn't he kick up a fuss?

Yelled and swore, and thrashed about until the rum ration was gone.

Hard to find a straight stick fer' a splint, but a bent leg beat pain, he said.

Tough old coot, hardly felt a thing, Bundy Rum on the mail truck, came.

A dozen bottles of the best, The boss was at his happiest, no sore leg.

But he was a lousy coot as well, and there was no Bundy Rum for us.

The good old days, when a beer cost ten-pence an' a headache a quid.

Yeah! Mate, the good old days, before the place was invaded by tourists

When most people didn't get 'em selves bogged, 'cause they were smart.

Not like now, mate, pommys and new chums bogged, some in bull dust.

Some in mud, some in the table drain, most in places not meant to be in.

Yeah! Mate, and they whine, they don't get 'emselves out, like we did.

The Outback is changing, mate, it is different somehow, flies still the same.

Drovers in caravans, washing machines, mattresses, even the wimmin.

Who would want to take his missus on a drovin' trip, not me, that's for sure.

But you ain't married, mate, an' that makes a difference on who you would take

Not too bad to finish the day with a cold beer and a bit of cake from the girl,

Good to feel somethin' in the swag not a snake. Her bite don't cause much pain.

“Spose, could ya' have somethin' there, an' the Television thing, is amusin'

Shearin' sheep is still good money. Good mates are still around the place.

Wimmin not plentiful, but that was always as is it is, good ones hard to find.

Horses are gone, motorbikes stinkin' up the air, kids don't wanna work at all,

Government hands them money, they get inta' strife, locked up, young criminals.

The Outback is changin', mate, an; ya' get sadder the more you do the perusin'